


A Soul in the City

by Cliophilyra



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Songfic, Sort of? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 08:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14733101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliophilyra/pseuds/Cliophilyra
Summary: Peter's colleagues opinions on his boyfriend are starting to get to him. Wade just wants to cheer him up.





	A Soul in the City

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really short thing I dreamt up on the bus! If you know the song that inspired this you may be as aged as me lol. It might be cheesy but it never fails to make me happy. I don't know if there will be any more to this but we'll see. I hope you enjoy it!

“ _Well I wish you luck kid but I don't know. He's crazy you know? I just don't think pinning your hopes on him is a good idea. If he hurts you I'm gonna have to hurt him. It'll be a whole thing...”_

Stark's words echo through Peter's mind as he lies on his couch in the dark apartment with the remnants of a cold pizza beside him. The TV flickers in the background unnoticed as he gazes at the cracked plaster of the ceiling. He is still furious at his mentor for sticking his nose in, for thinking he knows Wade better than Peter does. It seems like everyone has an opinion about the man he's been dating for the last two months, and most of them are less than favourable.

But now there is also a nagging part of him that worries that they’re right. What if this isn't what he wants? What if he doesn't know the man? What if what he thinks is the real Wade is just a lust-struck illusion? He’s not a kid, he's 21 for shit's sake, but he's still the youngest Avenger by a mile and they've all known Wade longer and they all tell him he's unstable, crazy, reckless, dangerous. A liability. But the thing is Peter knows better. Doesn't he? He knows the man behind the mask – literally - knows he is kind, sweet, thoughtful, funny. But none of that stops the voices of Wade's many critics from clamouring at him.

His phone pings on the arm of the couch and he picks it up. There's a text from Wade.

-S'up Baby Boy?-

He smiles faintly but doesn't reply. He mentally curses everyone and everything that put these doubts in his head.

His phone pings again.

-U ok Peteypie?-

Peter closes his eyes briefly and then texts back.

-Yeah-

A second later a reply comes.

-You wanna meet up? I have tacos-

Then, seconds later.

-and an erection-

Peter rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh. He texts back.

-Not tonight Wade. I've had a shitty day-

Not exactly a lie. He's spent most of it being berated for his life choices and sulking on the couch. He realises he is waiting for a reply, for a sign that he's not wrong. That the others are wrong.

His phone stays stubbornly silent and he thinks maybe that is the sign. That Wade doesn't really care. He's just looking for a booty call.

Thirty minutes later he is half asleep when a sound bleeds into his almost-dream of the first time he kissed Wade; upside down in an alley in the pouring rain, with water streaming up his nose. How they grinned at each other in disbelief and Wade squealed something about some movie or other, while Peter sneezed rainwater.

Blearily he opens his eyes and rubs dried tears from his cheeks. The noise comes again, an intermittent tapping on the window. He gets up and looks out.

At first all he can see is darkness and the lights of other buildings but suddenly something drops down, making him jump. It's a Deadpool logo, apparently floating in mid-air until he focuses and realises it is Wade's belt buckle hanging on a piece of string, tapping on the glass.

He opens the window and looks up into the darkness to see a familiar red mask peering down at him from the edge of his roof.

“Baby boy!” Wade calls down, “Get your sweet ass up here!”

“What the fuck are you doing Wade?” he yells.

“A little Spidey told me you were feeling shitty. I've got a cure but you gotta come up here.”

“On the roof?”

“Yep.”

“I’m tired Wade. I don't want to be on the roof.”

“C'mon, you spend half your life on roofs. Don't make me come down there!”

“How are you going to get down here? You don't have a key for the stairs.”

“Love laughs at locksmiths baby boy. Also C4.”

Peter laughs despite himself and rubs a hand over his tired eyes. “Ok fine. Just don't blow anything up.”

“I can't promise anything.”

Peter closes the window, grabs his keys and heads out to the staircase that leads to the roof.

The stairs are narrow and dark, a single weak emergency light flickers at the top like a broken halo. As he climbs he realises he is grinning to himself and then, as he puts his key in the lock, he realises something else. _What did he say? What laughs at locksmiths_?! He turns the handle and steps out onto the roof with his heart in his mouth.

It’s warm on the roof, the surface sticky from the residual heat of the day, the sky overhead is deep blue-black and starless.

At the far end of the roof, under a string of dollar-store fairy lights stands Wade in his full suit, complete with the usual arsenal of weapons. He is holding a huge ancient boom box over his head.

Peter stops dead at the sight of him, torn between confusion and laughter. When he sees Peter, Wade presses a button, with some difficulty, and an old disco song starts to play at full volume and he starts to dance; or at least as close to dancing as it's possible to get while holding aloft a 15lb stereo.

 _“I'm just a love machine, and I don't work for nobody but you,_ ” Wade sings along tunelessly and Peter's mind is suddenly made up. He bursts into hysterical laughter, cackling uncontrollably until he has to bend over and brace his hands on his thighs while he fights to catch he breath. Wade continues to sing and shake his ass to the music, grinning under his mask.

As the song ends Peter makes up his mind about something else. He walks up to Wade, lifts the boom box easily from his hands and places it on the floor, then he pushes up Wade's mask and kisses him, hard, clutching at his head and licking into his mouth. Wade groans and kisses back, sinking his fingers into Peter's hair, sliding strong hands down his back to grasp his ass and lift him up. Peter wraps his legs around his waist and kisses him harder until he's out of breath and panting. He pulls back and Wade looks up at him.

“Better?”

“What the hell was this in aid of?” Peter asks, still out of breath.

“You. Wanted to do something to cheer you up so I took some advice from the great Rod Stewart.” Peter gives him a look. “Shut up, he is a genius. Anyway, it worked didn't it?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “I can't believe you dragged me all the way up here to play Rod Stewart at me.”

“Heathen! _That_ wasn't Rod Stewart, that was The Miracles. Sweet jebus I really am dating a kid aren't I. Are you sure you're 21?”

“Shut it cradle snatcher. You're only 30, I can't help it if you have the musical taste of my 60 year old aunt.”

“May has great taste in music and also screw you.” Wade leans up and kisses him again.

Peter smirks into the kiss. “Hmm maybe later,” he murmurs. Wade squeezes his ass with both hands and drops him back onto his feet.

Peter looks up at him as the song changes to something slower. Now or never.

“Did you mean what you said before?” he asks.

“Yes. Rod Stewart is a genius.”

“Asshole. I mean about...locksmiths...” he says, suddenly unable to say the word he wants to say.

“Ah. Well yeah. I don't do stupid shit like this for just anyone baby boy.”

“You do stupid shit all the time.”

“That maybe true, but yeah; I love you.”

A shiver rushes up Peter's spine and he wraps his arms around Wade again, burying his face in his neck and breathing in warm leather and cordite. “Fuck. I love you too,” he says, trying to hide the crack in his voice.

Wade's fingers thread through his hair and he pushes him back to look into his face. “What's wrong baby boy?”

Peter shakes his head. “Nothing. It's just...nothing. People have been confusing the shit out of me lately. Making me doubt myself.”

“About me?”

Peter sighs. “Yeah. Everyone's gotta have an opinion you know?”

“They're right,” Wade says and Peter's heart freezes. “I am crazy, I am unreliable, I'm all the things they say, but I do love you. I can't guarantee it's gonna be easy or perfect and I understand if you don't want to deal with my crazy: but I'm gonna try as hard as I fucking can to make you happy and sometimes, you just gotta take chances.”

Peter smiles. “Yeah you do. I think you're worth a chance Wade Wilson. Anyway, its my decision and I know what I want now.”

Wade grins and leans down again but then stops suddenly, his lips almost touching Peter's. “It's me right?"

“Yes idiot, it's you.” Peter replies and Wade kisses him again.

Some moments later Peter realises they are swaying to the music and as the tempo builds Wade suddenly spins him and then they are dancing to Motown on the sticky roof of a crummy apartment building at midnight. Light from other buildings falls in haphazard pools and streaks across the peeling ground, like spotlights as they move. He dips Wade who squeals in excitement and pretends to swoon. He spins him around until he's dizzy and laughs until his sides hurt.

Then he takes Wade's hand and pulls him to the edge. They flop down exhausted and sit on the ledge, looking out at the city. Something about the pulse of the more distant lights and the glowing trails of headlights on the dark roads makes Peter think of something living, like blood flowing through veins.

“Like it's alive,” he whispers, almost to himself.

 _“There's a soul, in the city, watching over us tonight_ ,” Wade sings loudly.

“Shut up, you're ruining the moment,” Peter grins.

“Philistine.”

Peter kisses him again, if only to shut him up but when he pulls away Wade continues singing at the top of his voice.

_“I've got plans for us, playin’ like a skip on a record, through my head all night long.”_

“Oh I've got plans of my own,” Peter says with a smirk, standing up and reaching down to pull Wade to his feet. “Do you want to come and find out what they are?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it please do leave a comment - I love comments!


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